


Re: Seperation

by somerandomonline



Series: is/was [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, mostly hurt implied comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22839523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somerandomonline/pseuds/somerandomonline
Summary: Heaven, and Aziraphale, wasn't always this way
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: is/was [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641955
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	Re: Seperation

Aziraphale would never admit it, but he wanted to go home. As much as he loved the world and its denizens, during quiet moments he could almost hear the not-sounds of the heavenly not-bells ringing.  
_(Please. It’s too much. Don’t leave, please, we can’t do this apart.)_

Crowley, contrary to popular belief, was never an angel, not really. He was born falling, his only memory of heaven being thrown out of it, as were many of the other demons. He’ll never admit it, not even to himself, but it may be better that way; Crowley is so much, so full of life that the sudden separation from heaven could have destroyed him, as many would be demons faded while falling.  
_(God knew what it had done to Aziraphale.)_

Another secret; even after millenia, neither Aziraphale nor Heaven as a whole was entirely used to having physical forms. Aziraphale enjoyed, even loved it, but still found it odd, sometimes, that you needed to talk, sign, or write to communicate, instead of simply willing it. Before the fall, they had all been connected, thoughts flowing between them like water.  
_(Isr - Aziraphale, you have adjusted to corporeal form, yes? Yes, Gla- Gabriel. You will guard the garden, then.)_

Once, Aziraphale asked “Do you ever wonder why She made having corporations so … tiring, dearest?”.  
Crowley gave him a confused look, though given how drunk he was, that didn’t say much.  
“Lifes’ supposed to be hard, angel. Maybe you should try sleeping”. Crowley smiled slightly at the image that conjured in his mind. Aziraphale, who had sobered up to avoid this maudlin, hopeless feeling, downed his glass and poured himself another.  
_(Isr - Aziraphale, you have adjusted to your corporeal form, yes? Yes, Gla- Gabriel. You will guard the garden, then.)_

That conversation was when he realized he was alone, truly realized. While he may have been among the most skilled at maintaining a corporeal, human shaped form, it wasn’t hard for everyone else the way it was for him. This was good, he thought. No one else was suffering, not like he was. So he could fix it, and cope until then.  
_(I’m so tired. Sleeping didn’t help. Please.)_

Post Apocalypse, things changed. He had severed his ties to the facsimile of Heaven, and anchored himself to Crowley permanently. While hope was not a foreign emotion to Aziraphale, hope for himself was.

“I love you, angel”  
“I love you, dear heart”

**Author's Note:**

> first fanfic and post woot woot! Please tell me what you think! Also, some of the story didn't get posted originally, so even if you've read it before, maybe give it a reread. Formatting is not my strong suit.


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